On the closing of Antioch College

Snow is general
over the old campus.
It is a cruel dusk
to have come so soon.
Nothing glistens
on the frozen paths.
Save for what the deer have left,
there are no footprints
in the snow.
A soot-colored squirrel
climbs a dead tree.
An owl shudders
on its high perch
then falls back to sleep.
Ghostly voices drift
up from the glen,
past the darkened buildings,
and into the town.
Horace Mann walked here,
they whisper,
then fade
into silent awe.